


Who Knew The Devil Could Be So Sentimental?

by NostalgiaKick



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 04 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NostalgiaKick/pseuds/NostalgiaKick
Summary: Chloe finds an unexpected surprise while packing up the penthouse





	Who Knew The Devil Could Be So Sentimental?

**Author's Note:**

> So lately my brain is full of just how to get Lucifer back from Hell... but this occurred to me and I couldn't resist.
> 
> All usual disclaimers apply.
> 
> Thanks go to my dear friend Endelda, for putting up with me bombarding her with chunks of this and for beta-reading the eventual result.

Chloe Decker dragged the stack of moving boxes, bubble wrap and packing tape out of the elevator, leaving them in a pile near the piano and looking around. Maze was right. Linda was right. Lucifer had been gone for six months now; it was time to pack up the penthouse and put everything into storage. Maze had pushed her to let movers come in and deal with it all, but Chloe had resisted. She knew that movers would be necessary for the bigger, heavier things— the piano being a prime example— but somehow she just couldn’t stand the idea of total strangers coming in and handling all of Lucifer’s possessions. Things that he’d acquired over the millennia of his life, some of which were priceless and irreplaceable. She couldn’t just leave that to people who didn’t really care. 

She sighed. She had three days. Three days off work to pack up everything that was too precious or too personal to leave to the movers. Looking around now, she doubted that it would be enough time. The books alone… well, she’d pack the oldest ones herself and leave the rest.  
‘Okay Decker,’ she told herself. ‘Standing here isn’t getting it done.’  
She took the first box over to the bookshelves, popped the base into place and started packing. 

***  
As Chloe worked, she did her best to switch her emotions off; not to think about what she was doing.

She hated every minute of it. 

Every thing she packed away reminded her of Lucifer, making her miss him ever more fiercely. Storing all of this felt so final, like she was giving up on ever seeing him again. 

Like she was giving up on him. 

And as the penthouse grew emptier, it felt like she was trying to erase him; a feeling that only got worse as she moved on to packing up more personal things. 

Chloe stopped in the doorway of the walk-in closet and took a deep breath, steeling herself. This was going to be one of the hardest rooms to finish; everything in here from the shiny Italian leather shoes, to the crisp cotton dress shirts, to the stylish and expensive suits, reminded her powerfully of Lucifer. The room even smelled like him, the faint, clean, masculine scent still clinging to his clothes. She choked back the tears that were threatening, grabbing the first packing box almost angrily and marching over to start on the drawers.

***  
Chloe came across a box, stuffed into the corner of the shelves where it was protected from view by the row of dress shoes she’d just removed. She raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Lucifer to have hidden a box of something; most of his possessions were surprisingly neat. She lifted the box out of the corner, noting that the shallow, roughly legal-sized container barely weighed a thing, and placed it on top of the carton she’d filled with shoes. It wasn’t until she’d lifted the two boxes to carry them to the living room that she realised the mystery box had her name on the side. She paused for a moment, debating internally whether she should look inside, before shaking her head and carrying them down the short hallway and down the stairs, stacking them neatly with the rest and heading back for another load.

Dragging the wheeled rack full of his suits out to the living room took a few more minutes. Finally, she got it down the steps, the bagged suits swinging wildly and threatening to unbalance the overloaded rack. She pulled it over in front of the stack of boxes, swatting the hair that had come loose from its band out of her face. The small box caught her eye again. Picking it up, she took it back up the stairs with her, placing it on the bed before going down the hallway to finish packing up his closet. 

She made it as far as the closet doorway before curiosity got the better of her. Sitting down on the bed, she carefully lifted the lid off the box and put a hand to her mouth, unexpected tears welling in her eyes. The box was full of mementos; the shirt of his that she’d worn, the night she, Linda and Dan had spent in Lucifer’s penthouse on her birthday; photos of the two of them, most of them with yellow crime scene tape visible in the background— Ella’s doing, she guessed; and a few small white petals scattered across the top that she recognised as being from the corsage he’d given her, the night he’d set up the ‘prom’ for her at Lux. Her hand trembling slightly, she picked up the top photo, gently shaking the petals off it. It was one of the ones taken at a crime scene; she’d been looking at something on the ground, out of sight, but Lucifer… Lucifer had been looking at her, a faint smile on his face. The threatening tears started to fall. How many times had he looked at her like that and she just didn’t notice? There was no mistaking the love in his expression— which was probably why Ella had given him the picture in the first place. And why had it taken her so long to admit that she loved him too? They could’ve had so much more _time_ together if she had; if she’d just looked past the whole Devil thing and realised she’d known the real man the entire time. Wistfully she ran one fingertip down his face in the photo before going to replace it in the box.  
The glint of metal half-buried under more photographs stopped her. Pushing the pictures aside, she uncovered a familiar silver chain and pulled on it gently, lifting it out of the box and watching the squashed bullet swing as she dissolved into sobs.  
Finally, she wiped the streaming tears away with the cuff of her shirt, giving the bullet pendant a gentle tap with her fingertip and making it spin.  
“I can’t believe he kept this,” she said quietly.  
“I was hoping that one day you’d want to wear it again,” came a voice from the top of the steps.

Startled, she sprung to her feet, her eyes wide with shock. Lucifer was leaning on the doorframe, watching her with that faint smile on his face.  
Stunned, she stared at him in disbelief, unable to speak, until his smile faded and his brow creased in worry.  
“Detective?”  
As if that was the catalyst, she moved forward, coming to stand a few inches in front of him, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.  
“It’s really you, isn’t it? You’re really here.”  
He nodded, an intensely vulnerable expression on his face that she remembered from the night she’d held an axe to his chest.  
Chloe took one last half-step forward, sliding her arms around his waist, shuddering with reaction as he embraced her and the pain and heartache and emptiness of the last few months began to fade.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, her nestled against his chest, him stroking her back with one hand and his cheek against her hair. Finally she shifted a little in his arms.  
“I’m sorry I opened the box.”  
“Well, if someone had to I’d rather it was you instead of Maze. Gosh, I’d never live it down. Who knew the Devil could be so sentimental?”  
She laughed for a moment before sobering, pulling back to look up at him. “How are you here? The demons—”  
“Not to worry, that’s all sorted.”  
“But how?”  
“It’s a long story. And I will tell you— later. For now...I’m home.”


End file.
